


Average Joes

by ghostystarr



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Awkward first dates, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Elements, pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 11:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4520166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostystarr/pseuds/ghostystarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam Parrish had just wanted their first date to be normal - a break from the real-life Goosebumps novel he was living. The only thing was he wasn't sure he remembered what normalcy was any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Average Joes

**Author's Note:**

> A.K.A - nerds go on their first date and fail at being normal teens.

Adam had it all planned out from start to middle to finish. The margin for error was obscenely large but he tried to overlook the numbers and focus on the main matter at hand. Friday night was _the night_. Gansey and Noah would be off conducting some sort of energy experiment involving a lot of terms Adam had no patience to learn while Blue would be working late at Nino’s.

“We should do something,” Adam had said to Ronan, who paused in the act of chewing on his leather bands to raise an eyebrow at him. “Just us,” he’d added unnecessarily.

“ _Yeah, no shit it’ll be just us,”_ Adam had expected Ronan to say. _“Everyone else has a life, Parrish. Well,_ figuratively _speaking.”_

But Ronan had just lowered his arm and watched Adam like he had sprouted a third arm. “Yeah?” he asked in a small tone and Adam knew he’d picked up on the hidden undertones.  The line between unnecessary and necessary was worryingly thin when it came to Ronan.

Adam had to swallow around the lump in his throat before forcing himself to continue. He had rehearsed over and over again after weeks of self-guessing and conclusions and second-guessing and more conclusions.  Still, he knew what he wanted.  “Yeah, you know… I figured… we might as well – I dunno – give it a shot?”

They hadn't spoken about it.  Not a single word breathed between them that could even imply that either of their emotions towards each other was anything but platonic since Ronan's first hesitant confession.  But the glances were there, and the thoughts were a new constant, and Adam may have been avoiding Ronan for a bit while his mind spun with realizations.  Adam would make that up to him.

Ronan had been quiet for a long time while Adam mentally berated himself for sounding like a shy child until a pointed grin shot across Ronan’s face like an arrow. He had looked as though he had just been challenged. “Fine with me, Parrish, but if you mention Glendower _once_ I’m leaving you on the side of the road.”

“Done deal.”

Adam had even gone as far as to forbid all things weird and magic for the occasion. It was already supernatural enough that Adam and Ronan were going on a _date_. Because that was what it was, right? They hadn’t mentioned the word once but the message had been there. The unnecessary addition had been very secretly necessary. Adam didn’t think he could handle much else on the first try. Added onto that, ghosts, whispering trees, dead kings, Greywarens – oddities had all become a constant in his life. He couldn’t even look in the mirror without wondering what sorts of secrets were lurking behind the darks of his eyes. Yet, the mere _absence_ of abnormality was, in and of itself, abnormal. In a refreshing kind of way.

For a bit, he let himself simply worry about the fact that he would be out one-on-one with Ronan for an entire night and not think about his unfamiliar reflection or the fact that his date could materialize abstract thoughts into palpable objects. The idea of going out with _him_ hadn’t plagued Adam as much as he’d anticipated. It was more of a lightbulb going off – an “ah, okay, I see it now.” Truthfully, he was more concerned over how he was possibly going to last a night without wanting to throttle Ronan for something remarkably dumb let alone hold a solid conversation.

His awkward brushes with Blue felt like tee-ball compared to Ronan’s fast-pitch.

So he planned. And he planned some more. He picked the most mundane activities he could think of, the most ordinary dating cliché’s that would make even rom-com enthusiasts yawn. A movie and dinner at a place they had never been to, which left little chance that they would run into someone they knew well and inadvertently ruin their night. As nervous as Adam had become, he was also getting rather excited and he wanted it to go over well.

But, with Ronan, things scarcely went over as anything but disastrous. Ronan was a pot of water that was constantly dangerously close to boiling over and Adam only wished he’d known where to find the lid. Blue had been the lid for Adam, for a time. She’d known how to place him back to himself. Adam wondered if he would ever be able to do to the same for Ronan, even slightly.

The threat of total nuclear failure looming over his head, Adam paddled his bike over to Monmouth Manufacturing after his shift let out.  His car was in the shop and it had been a serious dent in his budget, but he was determined not to let it effect his plans.  He was both disappointed and relieved when he saw that the Pig wasn’t in its usual spot. On the one hand, outside company might do well to alleviate some of the awkward air between them. On the other, Gansey and Noah knew the two of them far too well to be helpful.

Any other occasion, Adam would have let himself into the place, shouted a greeting, and waited for the rest to join him. But right then he froze up in front of battered door, staring at the peeling paint and bristled woodchips. He hesitated – _point of no return,_ he thought – before rapping his knuckles and immediately had to pull off a large, painless splinter.

There was no answer from within so Adam repeated, louder, with his elbow that time and eventually he heard approaching footsteps. The door opened and Ronan peered at him in confusion. “Why the fuck did you knock?” he asked.

Adam took in his appearance as if seeing him for the first time all over again. He was still Ronan. He looked the near exact same as he had when they’d seen each other earlier in Latin. Shaved head, brooding expression, tall and lean – all the same. Adam had always been aware of Ronan’s looks. He’d spent too much time comparing himself to the other Raven Boys to be oblivious. Maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was the angle, or maybe it was because Adam was making it a point to be aware, but there was more to him.

His crystalline blue eyes were drawing Adam’s attention but so were his tight leather jacket and also the little splotch of tattooed ink sneaking up behind his collar.

Adam suddenly realized he’d been quiet for too long and Ronan was glaring at him curiously. He laughed, squeakily ( _too nervous,_ he chided himself), and shrugged. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, just let me put Chainsaw in my room.”

Adam smiled wryly. “What? Gansey getting tired of her going Godzilla on his Henrietta model?”

“She likes to eat Main Street the most.”

“I think Gansey used a Fruit Loops box on that street,” he said, following Ronan into the factory apartment. “She has good taste.”

They found Chainsaw grooming herself predictably on Gansey’s model of Henrietta. Even then, Adam could see that the general store roof had been chewed and the drug store was missing a door. She made a surprised squawk when Ronan scooped her up. “Be right back,” he said tersely and left Adam to the model. His footsteps echoed loudly against the tall ceilings. Monmouth was always too spacious when empty. It made Adam’s thoughts sound too loud in his head.

 _Just two people going out,_ Adam reminded himself over and over. _A completely normal thing to do._

“All right, let’s go.” Ronan was back. Adam hadn’t heard him return and jumped. One would think he would be used to sudden appearances with Noah around. Thankfully, Ronan hadn’t noticed. He snatched his keys off the kitchen counter. “Ready?”

“Sure. We should hurry if we’re going to make the movie.”

“Remind me why we’re seeing a movie again?”

“To laugh at ill-timed explosions and impractical emotional responses,” Adam said in his best Gansey-voice.

Ronan grinned. “Lead the way then, old sport.”

…

The drive was awkward. If awkwardness was a cake, Adam would have needed a power saw and two full minutes to cut through it. The radio helped a bit but the energy surges which rolled off of the ley line like waves before a storm kept cutting the songs into static at random moments. Both of them were careful not to mention it.

Adam risked a glance at the other boy. Ronan face was flat, uninterested as the wind whipped at his jacket from the open window. But his knuckles were white against his toned skin, the grip on his steering wheel much less steady than when he was doing burn-outs and donuts in the Nino’s parking lot. Even Ronan’s practiced nonchalance couldn’t perfectly hide the nerves.

It comforted Adam a lot. At least he knew Ronan was being serious about the night in his own sort of way. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile as the radio faded out again.

The theatre was crowded. Adam scanned the faces but, so far, he hadn’t recognized a single one. A breath of relief escaped him until he realized Ronan was reaching for his wallet. “No,” he said firmly. “I asked. I’m paying.”

Adam could see the retort coming, could see Ronan’s lips twist as he tried to hold it back. He was shocked when all that escaped him was a long-suffering exhale. “Fine. You don’t have to get all snippy about it.”

Adam kept his chin high and handed over some cash while Ronan plugged his hands into his pockets and stomped ahead, muttering incoherently under his breath. “Thank you,” he said to the employee and went after him. The crowd was dense and, by the time Adam had found him, Ronan was standing smugly with his arm around a large bucket of popcorn and two large drinks. Adam shot him an unimpressed look.

“You didn’t ask. So I paid.”

“There’s no way you’re going to eat all of that.”

“ _Thur’s no way yer gonna eat all’a that,”_ Ronan mimicked terribly and Adam reached over for a piece of popcorn just to flick it at him but missed. Ronan looked victorious as they navigated the way to their seats. Ronan was adamant on having an aisle seat. He despised sharing an arm rest and Adam was too considerate of the other theatre patrons to argue with him.

The lights lowered and the previews rolled, but the summer’s next biggest blockbuster hit wasn’t on Adam’s mind. He was too focused on earlier – how Ronan had stopped himself from fighting with him. It occurred to him that maybe Ronan had taken Adam’s request for a normal date as completely literal. He shook his head, lips twitching again. It was almost cute the way his face had scrunched up like it had absolutely _killed_ him to not be able to call Adam a dumbass.

The words didn’t match up – Ronan and cute. Not unless they came in a sentence along the lines of ‘ _Ronan once held a cute baby and when it saw his face it cried.’_ But then he’d thought of how Ronan carried around that bird of his – even to school – and supposed that could be classified as cute. Then again, he was also talking about the same man who’d drunk himself into a stupor and thrown up on Adam’s shoes multiple times. Less cute.

A sudden explosion on screen made Adam jump. He hadn’t been paying attention. As he tried to place a name to the main character’s face, he felt Ronan nudge him, no doubt ready to taunt him for flinching. Adam shot him a glare but Ronan wasn’t even looking at him. His eyes were glued to the screen, posture a bit stiff, as their elbows remained touching. Adam realized he’d been using Ronan’s armrest. He was about to move, but Ronan put the tiniest bit more pressure against his arm. It made his lips quirk up. Maybe Ronan was a bit cuter than Adam had given credit for.

When the movie was over, and the hero got the girl, and the lights grew brighter, Ronan quickly removed his arm and stretched until his back gave a pop. “Thank God. I’m starving.”

He gestured to the almost-empty bucket on Ronan’s lap. “You didn’t even finish your popcorn.”

“Popcorn isn’t a meal.”

Adam huffed to himself before standing up. His elbow felt cold. “Let’s go, then.”

They were nearly to the car before Ronan spoke again. “That movie sucked,” he said.

Adam snorted. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“I thought you fell asleep, to be honest, before you jumped like baby goat.” Ronan’s grin was teasing but Adam still narrowed his eyes.

“Shut up, I did not.”

“You jumped, like, two inches out of your chair.”

“You’re so full of it.”

Ronan laughed. “And _you_ got scared of a PG-13 movie.”

With no better comeback in mind, Adam swiftly grabbed a loose handful of popcorn from the bucket in Ronan’s arm and threw it at him.

Ronan squawked and promptly planted the whole bucket upside-down on Adam’s head.

 _“RONAN!”_ he screamed as popcorn and butter fell onto him, hands scrambling to take the bucket off. He could feel kernels going down his shirt. “I’m gonna _kill_ you!”

Ronan’s laughter was endless but Adam, not so easily defeated, was quick to throw the bucket back at him. He smirked as it smacked him right in the back of the head with a satisfying _thunk_. Ronan cursed and went very still. Adam hoped he hadn’t taken it too far, but the apology died on his tongue when he saw Ronan bend down to collect pieces of popcorn off the asphalt.

“Ronan, no,” he said sternly. “Don’t!”

Ronan wore a too-casual smile as he approached Adam, dirty popcorn in hand.

“Ronan, stop, c’mon! You win! Just fucking put the popcorn down. That’s disgusting. You’re disgusting!”

Adam imagined they must have looked quite a sight to the other movie-goers as Ronan chased him around the cars, shouting at him to man up, while Adam cursed. In the end, Ronan caught him and dropped the popcorn down his shirt. Adam wondered why he ever even thought about dressing nice in the first place. “I hate you,” he declared as he spun around, hands pulling his shirt away from his back in vain attempts to the pieces out. Ronan was much closer than he thought. He could smell a combination of cologne and butter. Their eyes met and Adam’s ribs felt too small against his lungs. Ronan’s lips tightened into a thin line.

Both men took two giant steps back and looked away, suddenly quite aware of the scene they had caused.

“So, er,” Adam cleared his throat, “dinner.”

Ronan was back to himself in an instant. “Finally.”

They got into the BMW with an unspoken agreement to not mention the Popcorn Fight to anyone.

…

The ride to the diner, however, was awful. Adam had no idea what to say or how to break the awkwardness icing over them. He bit his cheek and looked out the window while Ronan focused on driving. He was pretty sure they were both aware of the fleeting glances they kept sneaking at each other.

 _Weird,_ Adam thought. _It’s weird doing this with him._

But was it bad? The elbow-touching, the popcorn-wrestling, the uncertain-glancing – it wasn’t bad. It was just different. It was Ronan. It was one of his best friends. For all his faults, Ronan was still important to him and Adam knew he wasn’t exactly saint-like himself. If they could just get past the awkward moments, Adam thought he might seriously be able to enjoy this.

The diner they went to was a desolate one. It had a faded vintage 50’s look with weeds growing in the parking lot and a dying fluorescent sign. Behind it were miles and miles of cornfields. Ronan and Adam exchanged glances before getting out of the car, thinking the same thing.

_This place has X-Files written all over it._

Neither of them dared to say it aloud.

“Well, here we go,” Ronan muttered dryly. “Let’s try not to get abducted.”

Adam shot a warning look at him. “There’s no such thing as aliens.”

“You’re deluded, Parrish.”

The diner was empty save for another older couple having coffee and pie. The checkered flooring and chrome counters were dizzying, but the jukebox in the corner already had Ronan’s complete attention. Adam picked a seat as a waitress in a pink dress and blonde wig came over to hand him two menus and tell him the specials. Ronan came back with his hands in his pockets. “Do you have quarters?”

“Seriously?”

“C’mon, it doesn’t take bills.”

Adam shook his head in exasperation but dug around his pockets. He held out two quarters, which Ronan took back to the jukebox. A moment later, a familiar tune started playing in the old speakers above.

_I told the Witch Doctor I was in love with you…_

“Nice,” Adam said sarcastically as Ronan sat down across from him.

“You have butter in your hair,” came his retort.

Adam scowled, fixing his hair with one hand and flipping Ronan off with the other.

They placed their orders and got their sodas when Adam realized they’d been quiet for too long. “So,” he started, unsure, “uh, how’s… Chainsaw?”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “You just saw her.”

“I’m trying to make small talk. That’s normal, right?”

Ronan snorted. “Small talk? You want to make small talk about my pet raven I literally pulled out of my head?”

Adam groaned. “Okay, okay, new subject! Guess what Noah told me yesterday?”

“Noah. As in my _ghost_ roommate?”

Adam threw his hands up in frustration. “Oh my God. _You_ pick a topic, then.”

Ronan thought for a long time while the chipmunk voice sang overhead. _Ooo, eee, ooo ah ah._ “Baseball.”

“I didn’t know you liked baseball.”

“I don’t really care for it, but you used to play.”

“When I was a kid, yeah.”

Ronan’s smirk meant nothing good was coming. “So, what, were you pitching or catching?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “And there goes that conversation.”

The other boy laughed. “Okay, fine, fine. Real conversation. Real questions. What position did you enjoy the most? Did you like holding the bat?”

“Shut up!” Adam was laughing, too. “God, you’re terrible.”

“And yet here we are.”

Adam drummed his fingers on the table. “Here we are,” he repeated like it was a confirmation. “I’ll have you know that baseball is a perfectly manly sport.” Ronan was nodding along with an overly serious look. “Okay, I give up.”

The song Ronan picked finished only to just start right back up again. Adam threw an ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look to the other. “I had _two_ quarters,” Ronan defended, sipping on his drink.

“And so, of course, you couldn’t pick a different song. You have to make me suffer through this,” he gestured to the speakers, “twice.”

“I live to serve.”

“Fuck you.”

They smiled.

The rest of the meal was spent in that manner. Friendly bickering, inappropriate comments, that was familiar territory. At one point, Adam was ranting about how unfair his World History teacher graded his paper, and Ronan was just listening quietly, hand on his cheek, watching Adam as he talked. Before Adam could completely process the soft smile on Ronan’s face, it was gone.

They paid for themselves. Adam was the one to suggest it and neither of them seemed to want to ruin things by arguing about it.

Then, just like that, it was over. They left the diner and got into the BMW. The radio crackled on, static sneaking into choruses, and the trees rolled pass, getting thicker the closer they got to Henrietta. The sun was just about done. The sky was a brilliant purple and the clouds were thinning out. They hit a pothole in the road and Adam felt more at peace than he had in months.

He wasn’t sure if he’d just had a normal date or not. Was it normal to get a popcorn bucket dunked on one’s head and eat at a 50’s diner that looked like it had a UFO in the back? Probably not. At least the corn hadn’t started talking Greek. Trees practiced in Latin was enough.

Without looking away from the sinking sunset, he asked, “Okay, so, trees speak Latin, right?”

Ronan eyed him briefly. “I thought that was on the shit list for tonight.”

“We just crossed the Henrietta boundary line,” Adam interjected. “Back to normal.”

Ronan shook his head. “Okay, this normal or not stuff makes my head hurt. Which are we again?”

“We’re not,” Adam said firmly. “Definitely not. I guess I should have said, ‘back to being weirdos.’”

“Hello, Darkness, my old friend,” he agreed.

Adam grinned. “All right, now, hear me out. If trees speak Latin, what would corn stalks speak?”

“Greek,” came Ronan’s immediate answer and Adam laughed heartily. They were too alike sometimes. Or, perhaps, they knew each other too well. Maybe that was why Adam was as comfortable with _this_ as he already was. Ronan glared dangerously at him. “What?”

“No, it’s just… I thought the same thing, but… why the hell would they speak Greek?”

“Why do the trees talk Latin? Who fucking knows?”

“What about shrubs? Or daises? Or grass?”

“Grass is everywhere. So it must speak the universal language.”

“Money?”

“English, you ass.”

“And seaweed?”

“Atlantian.”

“Oh my God.” Adam rubbed his face, trying not to laugh again.

Ronan made a face that was akin to a pout. “It’s real.”

“Now who’s being deluded?” he asked as his hands fell away. He leaned his head back against the seat and smiled at Ronan, who turned an interesting shade of pink and redirected his attention to the road.

Ronan seemed to have trouble finding words. When it was apparent he could not put together a suitable comeback, he grumbled, “Whatever. Is your seatbelt on?”

Adam pursed his lips. “Yeah. Why?”

Ronan stepped on the gas.

…

They returned to Monmouth in what felt like no time. Adam shouted at Ronan no less than eight times to slow the fuck down, but Ronan’s smile was manic and Adam began to wonder if he _liked_ when Adam told him off. The thought made him go silent, sulking in the passenger seat while trying not to smile when Ronan wound Adam’s window down.

He flipped him off, again, but Ronan’s laughter was infectious and Adam was feeling too deliriously happy to keep the plastic frown on his face.

It was like someone had popped the bubble around them when they got back to Monmouth Manufacturing and saw the Pig parked in its spot. “They’re home,” Adam said, unnecessarily. He looked at the time on Ronan’s dashboard and blew out a sigh. “I should get home, too.”

“I can drop you off.”

“My bike’s here.”

The conversation died there. Ronan cut the engine, but neither of them made any attempts to leave. Adam knew he should say something, but his brain was too busy thinking about what _not_ to say to make any decisions.

“So…” Ronan attempted but shut down.

“So…” Adam chimed, mostly so he wasn’t silent. Ronan was looking at him, though, so he continued, tongue-tied and fidgety. “I, um, I had a really good time?”

Ronan’s face went flat. “Are you asking me if you had a good time?”

“Ha-ha.” Adam rolled his eyes. “I’m telling you. I did. Have a good time.” Then, when it was obvious Ronan wasn’t going to say anything without being pushed first, asked, “And you?”

“Yeah,” was the only answer he received, but the warm relief that flooded Adam’s body made it more than enough.

“Cool,” he said simply.

They sat, listening to the cicadas chirping, and Adam kept an eye on the many tall windows of Monmouth, hoping neither Noah or Gansey were spying.

Eventually, Ronan let out a frustrated growl. “Wow, we suck at this.”

Adam’s lips twitched. “It’ll get better.”

“Will it?” Ronan’s eagerness betrayed him. For a moment, he looked like an ordinary insecure seventeen-year-old.

“If you want it to.”

“I want it to.”

Adam had no idea how to respond so he just looked at Ronan instead. Only then did it strike him as to what they were _doing._ They had just gone on a date. Them. The Magician and the Dreamer. “Can I try something?” he asked before he was aware he was saying anything at all.

Ronan’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “Like what?”

“Just shut up.” Adam leaned experimentally forward and Ronan immediately shut his open mouth, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Adam inched just a bit more, mentally psyching himself up and hoping Ronan would at least meet him halfway, but Ronan’s face turned from pink to dark red and he looked so _terrified_ that Adam burst into laughter.

“What are you doing?” Ronan shouted, sounding angry but Adam knew better.

“Stop looking like a deer in the headlights!” Adam wheezed. “Am I that scary?”

“You’re…” Ronan trailed off, fighting for words, “ _praedirus.”_

“I forget what that word means.”

“Good.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment then,” Adam decided. Ronan was still blushing and Adam thought it might be one of the cutest things he’d had the pleasure of seeing. Just to rub salt in the wounds, he said, “Your face is a tomato.”

“Shut the help up, Parrish!” came the predictable snap and, from there, it was easy.

“Make me.”

Ronan stopped – Adam could _hear_ the gears turning in his head – but Adam waited, patient as ever, until the other cursed to himself and turned to Adam with a look that might have been frightening to someone who didn’t know Ronan Lynch. But Adam did. He knew Ronan better than he knew himself most days and seeing Ronan look at him like that made Adam’s heart flutter and suddenly they were both leaning in.

As far as first kisses went, it was a disaster. Ronan came in too fast, too hard, and Adam had been unprepared, which resulted in an almost-painful clash of lips and noses. Adam made a noise of disagreement and Ronan pulled away, looking again like a deer in the middle of the road. “Ow,” Adam scolded, holding his smarting nose. “What’s your nose made of? Steel?”

“Oh my fucking God.” Ronan hit his head off of the seat.

Adam laughed. He felt light, like those metaphorical butterflies in his stomach were playing a symphony which thrummed through his entire body. His nose still hurt – he wouldn’t be surprised if it started bleeding soon – and yet he pushed at Ronan’s shoulder to get his attention. “Redo,” he said, “and this time just stay still and maybe one of us _won’t_ get nose bleed?”

“And you call me a dick.” Ronan glared. “You’re _evil_.”

“I thought I was praydeerus or whatever.”

Ronan rolled his eyes and Adam hastened to squash the Latin correction before it could escape. He swooped in and pressed their lips together. Ronan went very still – always taking things literal – but when Adam pulled back, both of them smiled sheepishly. “ _Praedirus,”_ Ronan muttered like it was a confirmation and the word echoed in Adam’s head like Cabeswater approved.

Adam laughed only because it felt like the right thing to do and only because he couldn’t quite wrap his head over the fact that he had just kissed Ronan Lynch. But, then again, that had felt like the right thing to do as well. And suddenly it was easy, so easy, to let his hand trail down Ronan’s arm as he pulled back, to suggest that their second date be very soon and very abnormal. It was as if they had always been at this point, or maybe just at the edge, teetering but not falling, and it felt so natural now to take the plunge.

“Gansey is going to have so many questions,” Ronan said abruptly and it took Adam a moment to realize that Ronan was asking him how he should answer.

“Tell him you broke my nose,” Adam teased.

“It’s not broken, holy shit.”

“Then tell him whatever you want.”

Ronan thought that over while Adam climbed out of the car. As soon as the night air hit his face, he took in a huge breath and let it out slowly. It was a nice night. Not a single cloud sat in the sky and the stars were splattered brightly against the dark.

The sound of Ronan’s car door closing brought his attention back to Earth. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Ronan was saying, eyes anywhere but on Adam, hands in pockets.

“Tomorrow,” Adam agreed. He worked but it was Saturday and going to Nino’s with Gansey, Noah, and Ronan had become a tradition. Blue worked those nights. He wouldn’t really call it working, though, not when she stayed at their table for most of her shift.

There really wasn’t much else to say so Adam thanked him for the nice day, grabbed his bike, and said a soft goodbye before hopping on.

“Night, Adam,” Ronan said. His name sounding foreign on Ronan’s tongue, like a promise or a confession, and Adam found the urge to kiss him again remarkably hard to fight. Instead, he smiled and paddled off. He could hear the front door of Monmouth open up and Gansey’s voice, indiscernible from his distance, call out to Ronan, who answered him sharply. “ _Shut up, I was not!”_

With a mental note to ask later, Adam peddled down the road, losing the battle against his twitching lips, and smiled like the fool he was. The hill dipped down and Adam let go of the handlebars and threw his head back to look at the stars, gleaming as if reacting to his bliss. It wasn’t natural at all.

Abnormality, he decided, was a beautiful thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Ronan internally combusting because he's trying to be a considerate date for Adam's sake is my favourite thing.
> 
> This is, like, the fourth draft of this thing and I might come back to it again later. ;w; And I tried to keep it as spoiler-vague as possible bc SOME OF US haven't finished The Dream Thieves yet (@Sam).
> 
> Oh yeah and "praedirus" means terrifying in Latin :3
> 
> tumblr; [ghostystarr.tumblr.com](http://ghostystarr.tumblr.com)


End file.
